Let's Go Exploring!
by ZombieCatTookMyPudding
Summary: Even though it's one day late, I wrote this in honor of the 20-year anniversary of the last comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. 26-year-old Calvin's life has taken a turn for the worse. Depressed and suicidal on New Year's Eve, all he wants is something to stop the pain. Then he finds someone he was forced to leave behind a long time ago…(Now contains an alternate version! See Chap. 2)
1. Original

**A/N**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Calvin and Hobbes._ All rights go to their respective owners.**

 **In honor of the 20th anniversary (+1 day) of the last comic strip of** ** _Calvin and Hobbes_** **, I give you** ** _Let's Go Exploring!_**

* * *

On the night of New Year's Eve, everyone was surrounded by their friends, family, and loved ones, waiting for the ball to drop on television, or for the clock to reach midnight. All of them were filled with hopes, dreams, and goals for the New Year.

...All except one, that is.

A young man in a gray suit walked down the sidewalk alone, the Christmas lights from the houses shining down on him. His blonde hair was ruffled. Cold, bitter tears streamed down his reddened face, his knuckles white as he clutched a nearly-empty champagne bottle.

He didn't see any point in celebrating the New Year, as if everything would _magically_ get better, just because some digit(s) in the year number changed. There was still murder, pollution, rape, poverty...

Honestly, he could go down the list he made in his mind forever.

Finding a relatively quiet house to hide at the side of, he reached in his pocket to pull out a small orange-and-white bottle. Much to his disappointment, it was empty. Cursing, he threw it into a nearby snow pile, and downed the rest of the champagne.

The bottle once held what was meant to be prescription medicines that helped with the depression he was diagnosed with almost ten years before, but it wasn't long before he found new ways to abuse them: from taking them with alcohol, to snorting, and even, on occasion, smoking it.

True, the 'high' he got from this _didn't_ solve his problems, but it helped him forget. At least for a little while.

Putting the empty champagne bottle in the neighbors' recycling bin, he continued walking.

* * *

His body seethed with hate for everything bright and cheerful around him. To him, every house looked the same. But then there was one house that caught his attention:

His own.

Or at least, it _was_ his own, but when he grew up, he moved away to the city in hopes of pursuing a better life. He and his fiancée, Susie, would still visit their families during Christmas, and sometimes even stayed through New Year's before returning.

His parents weren't home right now, and they hadn't bothered to put up decorations this year. It looked so dark and gloomy in comparison to the others.

A fond smile formed at his lips at all the fond memories he made there. Playing made-up games, wasting hours with television when he should've been doing homework...but his _favorite_ memories are when he would take a wagon or toboggan sled (depending on the time of year) out to the forest, go for rides with his best friend, Hobbes, and have deep, meaningful conversations, all the while trying to avoid boulders and cliffs.

...Hobbes...

His smile faded back to tears. He wished that accident had _never_ happened. He was already crazy from the moment he was born, but if he had been more _careful_ , they _would've never gotten worse_! And Hobbes was always prone to rips and tears, but he would've still been _in one piece_ had he just _paid more attention_!

Sighing, he wondered to himself if his parents left the door unlocked. After the fight he and Susie had...they _both_ needed some space to calm down.

The door creaked quietly as a dim beam of light spread across the living room. He didn't want anyone to know he was here, so he closed to door behind him, without turning on any lights.

Silently making his way to the kitchen, he began unbuttoning his shirt for easier access to his body while he searched for a flashlight and knife.

He decided he would go up to the attic, as not to make a mess. Not because he actually cared if the floors became stained...

...with a shudder, he pushed away the possibilities if anyone would find his blood and he'd wake to see the morning light.

* * *

His limbs tingled and shook as he switched on the flashlight.

As he sat down, leaning against an old box, he debated yet again:

 _Was the pain worth killing himself over, or should he just cut himself to cut the mental pain?_

If he were to _die_ , he'd leave those who knew and loved him behind. His parents...Susie...maybe even some co-workers whom he interacted with almost daily would care...

...but if he were to _live_ , this _hell_ he was pulling himself through would last for _who knows_ how long!

For some strange reason, he couldn't even bring himself to re-open one of the many scars on his arms. Letting out a shout at his own cowardice, he slammed the knife on ground, knocking the flashlight over. Tears filling his eyes again, he wondered:

 _What is it going to take for me to stop crying like a six-year-old?!_

Throwing the flashlight, it crashed into a cardboard box. He could briefly see part of the label:

 _"vin's ys"_

Wait a minute...

...Putting the words together in the most logical sense in his head, the box said " _Calvin's Toys_ ".

Could it _be_?

Hurrying to find where the flashlight landed, he picked it up and went back for the knife. His hands were shaking with hope as he used the knife to rip open the old box. Knocking the open box over, its contents spilled out, and almost right away, he found exactly what he was looking for: a stuffed tiger; well-loved, but dusty from being in the box so long. Pink stitches covered its body; they almost looked like scars.

He couldn't believe it...

...Hobbes...was in his parents' attic... _this whole time_?!

If murder were legal...

...that didn't matter right now. Hobbes finally came back to him, and in the moment, that's all he cared about.

"...Hobbes?" No response. "Hobbes, it's me, Calvin. Remember?" Silence. "Hobbes..." he whispered, feeling a pain in his chest, choking him. "...say something. Anything...please wake up..."

But alas, the toy did nothing. Its blank button eyes only seemed to mock its long-lost owner. Screaming in rage, it seemed all at once his energy was depleted. Curling up into a ball, he didn't want to die, or even injure himself. All he wanted was sleep.

Then, a deep snarl made him open his eyes:

"Well, well, well. Look who comes _crawling back_ after years of neglect. Guess being a grown-up isn't as good as you thought, is it, Calvin?"

"Hobbes?!" Suddenly sitting upright, he turned to find a fierce pair of eyes glaring at him through the dark. "Hobbes!" He went to embrace his old friend, but was pushed away. "...Hobbes? What's wrong?" The tiger looked down.

"You left me, Calvin. You didn't even say goodbye. I...I thought we were _friends,_ " he growled, his voice filled with hurt.

"I didn't mean to! It's just...we both crashed, and...we both got hurt...worse than usual. The neighbors even had to call an ambulance, you might not remember that, but when I woke up again at the hospital, my parents said they gave you away...'for sanity's sake', they told me. I didn't even know you were up here until _just now_!" Hobbes turned away, crossing his arms.

"I don't believe you."

"Hobbes...come on, you know me. If I _had_ a choice, I would've _kept_ you! And if I _knew_ where you were, I would've at least said 'hi' once in a while. We _are_ friends. We _always have_ been. Nothing can change that. Not even age. I promise." Hobbes still didn't turn. "...I haven't been in the forest since the accident. I bet at least _part of it_ has changed..." taking a deep breath, he finished his question: "...do you want to go sledding with me? Just like old times?"

* * *

After Calvin put the rest of his suit back on, they stood in the only natural area left of their suburban neighborhood: the forest they used to go for rides in.

Hobbes started the sled while Calvin would steer in front.

"Let's go exploring, Hobbes!"

* * *

"This is usually the part when you say something deep or philosophical," Hobbes remarked coldly as they were looking for another hill.

"Funny thing about that…I think we've already talked about every corner of philosophy over the course of our friendship. It's hard to say something when you've already said everything."

"Okay then..."Hobbes was still angry at Calvin, but at least some conversation was better than silence in his opinion; he tried to think of something else to talk about. "...what's being a grown-up like?" He asked. Calvin laughed softly.

"I don't think I can speak for all grown-ups…most seem to have happy, full lives, even if it's just routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to bed, rinse and repeat."

"You said 'most'. If that means you're not one of _those_ grown-ups, then what's being a grown-up like for _you_?" Hobbes asked. Calvin laughed again, something sadder about his laugh. "…Did I say something funny?"

"No…quite the opposite, really. What was being a grown-up like for _me_? Well, aside from fighting every childish urge I had in me, having an over-protective, somewhat controlling girlfriend, regularly getting locked up in mental institutions, and over-drugging myself with prescription medicines just to convince myself that none of the pain I'm feeling is real…it was all fine and dandy," he chuckled. "Oh! But do you want to know what the _best_ part was? Feeling _lonely_. Not because you don't have anyone to talk to, but because you're surrounded by people all the time, but none of them understand how you really think or feel, no matter how hard you try to explain." It was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Out of everyone I've spoken to over the years…I feel like _you're_ the only one who _actually gets me_. Sometimes, I've even tried talking to you as if you were still there…but it just wasn't the same." Hobbes eyes widened, as if he had a realization.

"…The voices?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Every once in a while, I would hear a voice. I think it might've even been yours...but I didn't know what to say though…I didn't think it real…just echoes of memories we had together…but if that was _you_ talking to me…you…you really _did_ care after all."

"Of course I did, buddy! I told you nothing would change our friendship." This time, the tiger readily accepted his embrace. Calvin stood up straighter. "Hobbes, look! It's that hill we used to play on! Come on, last one there's a rotten tuna sandwich!"

"Hey, no fair! Wait up!" Hobbes dashed after him.

* * *

And so they sledded up and down the hill. With each run, they would go further and faster. Though the more they went, the more Calvin would get more and more tired.

"You okay, Calvin?" Hobbes asked. Calvin was looking in the direction of the town.

"I think they're counting down..." he shivered.

"Counting down?"

"It's New Year's Eve, you fuzzball!" He laughed. "We better make this one go _super-fast_!"

"Well, alright, get on up here then!" They hurried to the top of the hill.

The second the fireworks went off, they went the furthest and the fastest they've gone since the beginning of the night, so much that Calvin lost control and fell.

"Haha! That was great, Calvin!" Hobbes turned towards the limp figure in the snow, laying on a pile of rocks. "...Calvin?" Concerned, he got closer to him, and knelt at his side. A numb smile spread across Calvin's face, his pale blue eyes glazed with quiet bliss. A small puddle of blood formed at his head. In the light of the fireworks, Hobbes had never realized how dark Calvin's skin had gotten; it looked almost reddish-purple. "Calvin...should we go back home?"

"No. I just want to lie here. With you," he whispered.

"But if we stay out here much longer, you'll die from hypothermia, and maybe even head injury!" Hobbes exclaimed. Calvin's smile only got wider. _Then_ he understood. "Calvin…no…we…we gotta go back before it's too late."

"But if I go back and they see you, things will only get _worse_. They'll take you away, maybe for _real_ this time, lock me up again, and then I'll try to numb the pain with the drugs because they were the only thing that kept me as sane as someone like me could get…I can't go through that again, Hobbes. I'm usually the persistent type but…I've learned sometimes you just have to lie down and give up. Some battles you just can't win."

"Calvin..."

"You know, Hobbes, I haven't been this happy since the day before the accident we got into. I've been miserable without you."

"…Yeah…me too." Hobbes knew there was no changing his mind. All he could do right now was curl up by his friend, just like he wanted him to. "Calvin? I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier. I didn't know-"

"It's okay, buddy. I don't blame you." Calvin was losing the strength to stay awake now.

"…I love you, Calvin."

"I know I've never said it enough, but I love you too, Hobbes. And wherever we end up, don't you ever forget it."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Well, there you have it. Sorry it's one day late, but I hope that's at least a** ** _decent_** **way to remember the 20-year anniversary of this story's end. I'll make a sequel (and MAYBE a prequel) or something sometime in the near future.**

 **Just to clarify, in case you're wondering, when they say "I love you", it's like a brotherly kind of "I love you", not a romantic "I love you." I don't have a problem with LGBT shippings (and there's quite a few I enjoy/ship myself), I just think it'd be a little strange to ship a human with a stuffed animal.**


	2. Alternate Version

**_Let's Go Exploring:_ Alternate version**

 **Published to celebrate one whole year of me being here! *Blows celebratory kazoo***

 **I was going to publish it sooner, but then I completely forgot about it until a few days ago when I was cleaning out my computer files.**

 **This was written in 2016, as a response to guest review Jenna Hall, on why Hobbes didn't save Calvin.**

* * *

"...Hobbes?" No response. "Hobbes, it's me, Calvin. Remember?" Silence. "Hobbes..." he whispered. "...say something. Anything..." he felt a pain in his chest choking him. "...please wake up..."

But alas, the toy did nothing. Its blank button eyes only seemed to mock its long-lost owner. Screaming in rage, it seemed all at once his energy was depleted. Curling up into a ball, he didn't want to die, or even injure himself. All he wanted was sleep.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes.

"Hobbes?!" He sat upright. "Hobbes!" He went towards the wall, but slipped on a handkerchief on the ground. "...Hobbes?" He asked, sitting up. "What's wrong?" Silence.

"I didn't mean to! It's just...we both crashed, and...we both got hurt...worse than usual. The neighbors even had to call an ambulance, you might not remember that, but when I woke up again at the hospital, my parents said they gave you away...'for sanity's sake', they told me. I didn't even know you were up here until _just now_!"

Again, silence.

"Hobbes...come on, you know me. If I _had_ a choice, I would've _kept_ you! And if I knew where you were, I would've at least said 'hi' once in a while. We _are_ friends. We _always have been_. Nothing can change that. Not even age. I promise," silence. "...I haven't been in the forest since the accident. I bet at least _part of it_ has changed..." taking a deep breath, he finished his question: "...do you want to go sledding with me? Just like old times?"

* * *

After Calvin put the rest of his suit back on, he stood in the only natural area left of their suburban neighborhood: The forest they used to go for rides in.

As Hobbes was a stuffed toy, and couldn't really start the sled, Calvin did the favor as he did always: starting the sled, then leaping up in front.

"Let's go exploring, Hobbes!"

* * *

There was hardly the sound of anything except snow crunching beneath his feet. One hand held Hobbes, the other held the sled.

"Funny thing about that…I think we've already talked about every corner of philosophy over the course of our friendship. It's hard to say something when you've already said everything."

A pause, then Calvin laughed softly.

"I don't think I can speak for all grown-ups…most seem to have happy, full lives, even if it's just routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to bed, rinse and repeat."

Another pause, but then Calvin laughed again, something sadder about his laugh.

"No…quite the opposite, really. What was being a grown-up like for me? Well, other than fighting every childish urge I had in me, having an over-protective, somewhat controlling girlfriend, regularly getting locked up in mental institutions, and over-drugging myself with prescription medicines just to convince myself that none of the pain I'm feeling is real…it was all fine and dandy," he chuckled. "Oh! But do you want to know what the _best_ part was? Feeling _lonely_. Not because you don't have anyone to talk to, but because you're surrounded by people all the time, but none of them understand how you really think or feel, no matter how hard you try to explain," it was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Out of everyone I've spoken to over the years…I feel like _you're_ the only one who _actually gets me_. Sometimes, I've even tried talking to you as if you were still there…but it just wasn't the same."

Silence.

"Huh?"

More silence.

" _Of course I did_ , buddy! I told you nothing would change our friendship." He held the little toy he loved so much closer to him. Calvin stood up straighter. "Hobbes, look! It's that hill we used to play on! Come on, last one there's a rotten tuna sandwich!"

He held the stuffed tiger behind him. In his mind, Hobbes was running after him.

* * *

And so he sledded up and down the hill. With each run, he would go further and faster. Though the more he went, the more Calvin would get more and more tired.

For a moment, he stopped. Calvin was looking in the direction of the town.

"I think they're counting down…" he shivered.

A pause.

"It's New Year's Eve, you fuzzball!" He laughed. "We better make this one go _super-fast_!"

Hurrying to the top of the hill, Calvin positioned himself.

The second the fireworks went off, he went the furthest and the fastest he's gone since the beginning of the night, so much that Calvin lost control and fell.

Calvin was nearly limp in the snow; he had landed on a pile of rocks. Just barely, he was able to pull himself off, and reach for the tiger on the sled. Something was comfortable about the rocks somehow, so he went back to lay where he landed. With his pale blue eyes glazed with quiet bliss, he looked down at himself: his skin had gotten a dark reddish-purple from being in the cold for so long, and a small stream of blood poured down his face.

"No. I just want to lie here. With you," he whispered.

Calvin's smile got wider.

"But if I go back and they see you, things will only get _worse_. They'll take you away, maybe for _real_ this time, lock me up again, and then I'll try to numb the pain with the drugs because they were the only thing that kept me as sane as someone like me could get…I can't go through that again, Hobbes. I'm usually the persistent type but…I've learned sometimes you just have to lie down and give up. Some battles you just can't win."

Pause.

"You know, Hobbes, I haven't been this happy since the day before the accident we got into. I've been miserable without you."

He pulled the little tiger close to his chest.

"It's okay, buddy. I don't blame you."

Calvin was losing the strength to stay awake now.

"I know I've never said it enough, but I love you too, Hobbes. And wherever we end up, don't you ever forget it."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Oh god...I can't tell whether I made this funnier, or even more depressing. XD**


End file.
